


You're so cute when you slur your speech, but they're closing the bars and they want us to leave

by SummerSnow888



Series: And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Romance, general hilarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 20:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerSnow888/pseuds/SummerSnow888
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a drunk Alice is a most hilarious and troublesome Alice</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're so cute when you slur your speech, but they're closing the bars and they want us to leave

Being locked in a nuthouse for the better part of one’s adolescence did things to a person, Will decided.  Things like having the urge to participate in a bloody drinking competition despite never having consumed any significant amount of alcohol.  Because _of course_ Alice decided that she had the innate ability to consume more alcohol than grizzled men twice her weight and three times her size.   _Of course_ she did.  Why did she always have to be so bloody stubborn?

 

Both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, Alice managed to drink everyone else under the table, downing twenty five bloody shots of vodka before almost falling flat on her face, completely wasted.  Will had, out of loyalty, placed a sizeable bet on Alice’s victory and subsequently reaped the benefits of said loyalty while at the same time supporting Alice upright, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist as the other arm reached out to collect his winnings and shove the cash into his pockets.  Alice was functionally useless by that point, simply draping herself onto Will's shoulder and giggling hysterically at absolutely nothing. Will managed to get his money without too much incident, since everyone was simply too stunned that such a willowy-looking thing like Alice could win a drinking contest against Doc, and besides, Storybrooke people were just _nice_ and honorable that way.

 

Which led to his current predicament.

 

The two of them meander through the darkened streets back home, Will struggling to half-walk, half-drag Alice back home.

 

"Will! Wiii-iilllll!" Alice sing-songs.

 

"...yes, love?"

 

"I've...I've just -hiccup- figured ssssomething out."

 

"And what would that be?"

 

"Ruby...got her name..." Alice nearly slumps off Will's shoulder before he hauls her back up. "Got her name because...because..." She trails off, eyebrows furrowed together like she's trying to solve a difficult calculus problem.

 

"Because...?" Will prompts.

 

"Because she's Red Riding Hood!" Alice blurts out all out once, clearly proud of her discovery. "And red...ruby..." At this point, she dissolves into a fresh wave of giggling, as though it we're unbelievably hilarious that rubies were red. Will sighs and would've facepalmed if he weren't busy preventing Alice from introducing her face to the asphalt.

 

"That's very nice, Alice."

 

"And Will!"

 

"Yes?"

 

“Shtorybrooke...got its name...because it’s like -” Alice trips over her feet and and dangles precariously off Will’s arm before he manages to pull her back up again “- it’s like...everyone here...is from a fairytale...like...a ssssstorybook.”  Again, Alice looks inordinately proud of herself, although Will isn't quite sure if the goofy grin plastered across her face is more from misplaced pride or simple, overwhelming inebriation. He would roll his eyes in exasperation, only Alice's bloody _beaming_ at him, and her eyes are sparkling with unbridled glee, and her cheeks are stained pink with the flush of alcohol and he can only feel an overwhelming rush of fondness.

 

"An excellent observation, love," he offers instead, managing to not sound too sarcastic, although he really doubts that she'd notice either way, considering how bloody far gone she is.

 

Will's arm remains firmly wrapped Alice's waist (and he tries bloody hard to not think about how slender her waist is, or how warm it feels through the cloth of her dress, or how soft and creamy-white the skin under the dress is, and how it feels under his fingertips as he - _no_ , he reminds himself firmly, _now is not the time for this_ ) as he holds her arm across his shoulders, all while Alice is singing some bloody Disney tune that she learned recently.  Something about small worlds. Bloody hell. She really had to spend less time with Mary Margaret and the various children of Storybrooke.

 

* * *

 

Suddenly, Alice pulls sharply against Will and half-drags him over to Mr. Gold's shop on the opposite side of the street.

 

"Oi, Alice!"

 

Alice says nothing in reply (Will wasn't so sure why he expected a reply), and simply continues her dash towards the shop display, where she presses her face against the glass and fawns over _something_ in the window.

 

"Will, look!" She points to said something and turns to Will, _still_ bloody beaming.

 

Will once again suppresses the urge to sigh and slump his shoulders and roll his eyes (he wants a bloody award for this, he really does, he should ask Emma if they gave awards for good citizenship in the face of inebriated significant others), and reluctantly looks in the window.

 

Oh.

 

There, on a mannequin nestled in swathes of white gauze, is a dress straight out of storybooks.  It’s a rich, pinstriped dusty navy, with a center panel of cream laced calico.  A row of four pearl buttons runs down the center, with a satin champagne bow in the center of the collar and two crossed straps across the scooped neckline and ruffles on the shoulder straps, running down the sides of the bodice.  The skirts a wide, flary thing, something that looks like it’s held up by several layers of starched petticoats.  It’s something Alice would’ve worn in Wonderland.

 

"It's so pretty..." Alice coos, fingertips pressed against the glass.  Will almost dies of horror.

 

" _Alice!!!_ " He hisses frantically. " _Get your fingers off Mr. Gold's windows!!!_ "

 

But Alice clearly doesn't hear him (she's definitely ignoring him) and _presses her bloody nose to the glass_.  Will nearly faints.

 

But fainting would be unmanly.

 

Instead, he wraps both arms around Alice's waist and bodily wrenches her away from the window.

 

" _Nooooooooo..._ " Alice wails plaintively, her arms flailing out and reaching for the rapidly-departing window. " _Willllll...the dress...I want the dress...don't leeeeaaave meeeeeeee..._ "

 

Will is about to retort that he's not leaving her bloody anywhere before he realizes that she's talking to the bloody dress.

 

"Come _on_ , Alice. It's time to go home now."

 

"But I _want_ the _dress_!" Alice whines, throwing her weight against Will's grasp.  Will digs in his heels and eventually gives up, deciding to simply throw Alice over his shoulder, recover from an ear-splitting screech of shock and protest, and march on, trying his bloody best to ignore the fact that Alice is raining blows down on his back with surprisingly-strong hands and trying to break all his ribs with her feet.

 

"Put me _down!!!_ " Alice fairly howls in indignation. Will winces at a particularly forceful kick and pins her legs in place with his other arm.

 

"Sorry, love, but you're drunk out of your bloody mind and we need to go home."

 

"But the _dre-essssss..._ " Alice mourns.

 

"Can't get that, love. It's too bloody expensive."

 

" _So steal it!_ "

 

Will snorts at the revelation that Alice's strict moral code apparently flies out the window while under the influence.

 

"I'm not stealing from Mr. Gold. It's not worth the trouble."

 

Exhaustion overtakes Alice at this point, and her flailing gradually fades to a halt, instead slumping  passively over Will's shoulder like an obscenely-heavy rag doll.  Will is about to mentally celebrate his newfound good fortune when Alice decides that now is the opportune moment to rid her body of unwanted toxins.

 

" _Will..._ " She croaks.

 

"What now?"

 

"I don't...I don't feel so-"

 

_Oh bloody fuck._

 

Will scrambles to remove Alice from his shoulder, but it's too late. With a gut-wrenching heave, Alice vomits up twenty five shots' worth of vodka and various bar foods onto Will's beloved leather jacket.

 

He really wants that good-citizenship-in-the-face-of-inebriated-significant-others medal now.

 

Will pulls Alice down from his shoulder anyways, and he shudders at the feeling of sick running off his jacket and dripping onto his jeans, and the acrid stench of it isn’t helping at all.  But he dutifully holds her hair back as Alice finishes emptying her stomach off the curb of the sidewalk.

 

“Just...let it all out, love,” Will murmurs in what he hopes is a soothing voice as he rubs small circles between her shoulderblades.  “Let it all out.”  Alice shudders with a final heave and moans as she slowly unbends, collapsing against Will’s chest.

 

“ _Will..._ ” she whimpers miserably, and Will presses a sympathetic kiss to the top of her head.

 

“We’re almost home, love.  Here.”  He picks her up in his arms bridal-style, and Alice makes no move to protest, only snuggles her face into his chest and drifts off into a drunken stupor.

 

* * *

 

“Wake up, Alice.  We’re home.”

 

Alice opens her eyes groggily and blinks several times, trying to orient herself.

 

“...home...?”

 

“That’s right, love.  And I’ll need to put you down so I can open the door, alright?”

 

Alice nods silently.

 

“There we go.”  Will sets her down gingerly, keeping one arm around her and opening the door.  “Let’s get some water for you now.”

 

The two of them trip over to the kitchen, Will trying to navigate his way in the dark while guiding a stumbling Alice.  He pulls a glass from the cupboard and holds it under the open faucet as water gushes into it.

 

“Here you are, love.  Just rinse your mouth out now.  Don’t swallow.”

 

Alice docilely does as she’s told, all the fight vomited out of her.  Will slowly pours the water into Alice’s mouth, and she swishes it around.

 

“Good girl.  Now spit it out.”

 

Alice spits the vomit-laced water into the sink.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

“Mm...”

 

“That’s good, then.  Let’s go to bed now.”

 

Alice nods again, already half-asleep on her feet.  Will picks her up and carries her to bed, laying her down and removing her jacket and boots.

 

“Will,” she mumbles.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You’re...the best...”

 

Will kisses her forehead.

 

“Goodnight, Alice.  I love you.”

 

“Love you...too...”

 

And she’s out cold.

 

It’s worth it, he thinks, the vomited-on leather jacket and vomit-stained jeans and general exhaustion.  Being called the best by Alice.  It’s all worth it.  

  
  
  



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